Dumb, da dumb, dumb!

I'm feeling really dumb right about now. For the past four days I have been calling the poor people at Verizon INSISTING that they shut off my voice mail service because it is messing with my answering machine. Literally, I have demanded to speak to the supervisor three times. I'm sure they've put out a hit on my house and my phone service will never be the same. Or maybe they'll turn my number into a 1-900 number and I'll get a bunch of calls from random perverts. I would if I were them. You see, everytime my answering machine picked up it would play two messages at once and it sounded like I was drunk and repeating myself when I had recorded the initial greeting. For those of you who know me, you know that this is not entirely unlikely. At any rate, I THOUGHT that it was my voicemail picking up over top of my machine and therefore wanted my voicemail cut off. Verizon assured me on SEVERAL occasions that my voice mail was, indeed, shut off. "Call my phone and you can hear it for yourself!" I said. Finally, I called the manufacturer of the phone. This poor woman who was surely sitting in some sweatshop in Pakistan listened patiently through my entire sordid story. Finally, after I was all done and practically in tears, she asked me to unplug my phone. Porquoi? Unplug it, she said. Just trust me. So I unplug the phone from the power source and she calls my home phone while I wait on my cell. She has me walk around the house listening for her voice. Weird, right? Then, as though the sun was rising and everything all of a sudden became clear, I realized that my sweet, clueless husband had plugged in the old phone in the basement without turning off the old answering machine. DUH. So, we had two machines going off at once. Being the good person I am I did call the phone company back to apologize profusely. Then I paged Dr. Daddy and allowed him to know that he was the source of my angst for the past four days. His reply? "What's new?"